What They Really Mean
by Wizards-Pupil
Summary: This is a quick field guide to understanding the vocabulary of women. Women never put what they're thinking in plain words, but they hide it behind words that usually mean the opposite of what they're thinking. Merlin knows I could have used this guide.
1. Chapter 1: Fine

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I'm not giving Fred back, so ha!**

Greetings, husbands, fiancé's, boyfriends, and blokes in general. This is going to be a quick field guy to understanding the vocabulary of women. Not what they're saying, but what they actually mean when they say it. You see, women, the fine, tantalizing creatures that they are, are quite confusing. They never put what they're thinking or feeling in plain old fashioned words, but they chose to hide it behind words that usually mean quite the opposite of what they're thinking. Birds have been tripping us blokes up since the beginning of time with this, so, I decided it was about time someone wrote it all down. Merlin knows I could have used it.

Each chapter will include a word, a definition, a brief explanation of when the word can be expected, and an example from my home life.

So, without further ado:

A Muggle and Wizard's guide to what women are saying.

Entry one:** Fine**.

_This is a word women use at the end of any argument that they feel they are right about but need to shut you up. It's a tricky little bludger because it makes it sound as if they are fine. That is not the case. It only means they are dropping the topic until later, when they will take resume the argument and put you in what they feel is your rightful place. _

_On an important side note; NEVER use "fine" to describe how your woman looks. This will cause you to have one of the afore mentioned arguments._

"Fred!" I looked up from the sofa I was sitting on to see my new wife walk into the room with narrowed eyes. It is _never_ a good sign when she had that face on. It's the one that promises lots of pain if I failed to correct whatever I had done wrong.

"Yes, love?" I questioned, straightening up and giving her my best smile. She didn't soften her glare at all, instead her eyes narrowed even more. She held up a single object, one I didn't recognize at first.

"Do you know anything about this?" She asked, her voice holding a warning note. I glanced at her before studying the object. It was a sock, my sock. She had knitted them for me last Christmas, they were orange with black "F's" around the top.

"Umm," I said, that's me, just incredibly intelligent, "It's my sock?" I asked, trying to keep my voice from sounding unsure.

"Yes, and just where did you leave it?" She growled out, tossing the offending article of clothing at me. I caught it in the air and stood up, frowning. I had left it in my drawer, not in the floor or the hamper or even in the bathroom. I hadn't actually done wrong this time.

"Precisely!" I blinked at her in confusion. I was definitely missing part of this conversation. Namely, the part where I had actually messed up.

"What's wrong with that? Isn't that where they're supposed to go?"

"Yes, but they were put in wrong!" both my eyebrows went up at that statement.

"They were folded up in the drawer." I stated, my eyes wide. I had put the bloody sock in the drawer, what more did she expect? How was I supposed to know there was a proper and improper way to fold a sock? (Little tip for you guys reading this, watch how your bird folds her socks and mimic it. There is a proper and improper way of folding socks.)

"They weren't folded correctly. You balled them up! They should have been folded ¾ up." She informed me, growing more agitated.

"They were folded, what does it matter what they're folded up like?" I questioned, frowning at her.

"Because it isn't proper! They don't look as nice if they're just balled up."

"What does that matter? No one but us looks in our sock drawer." I retorted.

"Fine." She huffed, turning around and stalking back to the bedroom.

The dreaded 'fine,' guys.

I glanced down at the rumpled sock in my hand and frowned at it, feeling annoyed and upset. That had probably been the most ridiculous argument we'd ever had.

I went into the bedroom with a sigh and saw my wife jerking away at the drawer and pulling socks out of it. She was tossing them on the bed with out a look at them. I stepped behind her and started to unroll the socks. She turned partially towards me with a frown until she saw what I was doing. Her eyes softened slightly and she handed me my other orange sock. I folded it the 'proper' way and handed it back to her for her inspection.

"Much better." She said quietly before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to my lips.

See, knowing what women are really saying will make all the difference, and make things much more enjoyable for you in the long run.

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><p><em>AN: This is mostly going to be a silly fic based off a list my hubby sent me. He told me that every guy should be required to read this so that they can understand their women. Honestly, I think we're all perfectly clear, they just don't understand plain english. _

_Please, please, please Review and let me know what you think about this story! I love reading your ideas and thoughts, I am seriously addicted to the things! _

_Until the next chapter,_

_Wizards_Pupil_


	2. Chapter 2: Five Minutes

All right blokes, now that you've learned the most basic word in the female dictionary it's time to move on to the one that causes the most conflict with your outside life. It's one that most people get, but still bears mentioning.

**Five minutes:**

_This one most men understand, but still they take it at face value. This is a trap by women to mess up men's schedules. She says five minutes, but what she means is half an hour. If that doesn't make any sense to you, then look at it is equivalent to the five minutes that your Quidditch game is going to last before you take out the trash. They feel that it's an even trade because of it._

"Hermione!" I called from our bedroom, straightening my tie over my dress robes. I hated the bloody things, but the occasion called for it. Hermione had been given a promotion at work and now she had to attend a Ministry function on account of that. She had to dress up and bring a date (she graciously picked me, her hubby) which meant that I too had to dress up.

I had burn my dress robes after Bill and Fleur's wedding because I had never intended on wearing them again, but Hermione, being extremely adapt at magic, had transfigured me a new one. I think she had made them more uncomfortable on purpose. I couldn't prove it though.

"Yes?" Hermione called back from the bathroom. I finished fiddling with my tie and went for my cufflinks, an odd piece of jewelry that I never got.

"Are you about ready, love?" I questioned as I finished putting the random pieces of gold on. She didn't respond right away, which is a warning right there that you need to go find something to keep yourself entertained while you wait.

"I'll be ready in five minutes, dear."

Now, this is the point when you would need to find a comfortable spot to sit, preferably with a nice telly and a light snack. Being the bleeding idiot I am I actually believed her. For some reason I forgot the fact that this was the same witch that had taken _three_ hours to get ready for the Yule Ball.

I began to fidget with my hair, pushing it back off my face in a semi presentable manner while I waited for her. I spent about seven minutes working on my hair, and that was when I began to realize that she might not have been entirely accurate (or truthful) about only needing five minutes.

At the ten minute mark I was beginning to feel like a nutter.

At the fifteen minute mark I knew I was a nutter. I left the bedroom and headed into our kitchen. I fixed myself a glass of pumpkin juice along with a sandwich and made my way into the sitting room. I sat down on our sofa and propped my feet up on the coffee table. There would be hell to pay if Hermione caught me, but I had a feeling I still had another twenty minutes.

Sure enough, I finished my sandwich, pumpkin juice, and a chocolate frog before I even heard her stir.

I dropped my feet to the floor and sat up in my seat. I waved my wand and vanished all the remainders of my food to the kitchen sink. I hopped up and walked around the sofa towards the bedroom. Hermione was just emerging, putting a final earring in her ear. She was wearing dark forest green dress robes, far enough from Slytherin that no one (namely me) would tease her about it. they had black Celtic knots around the edges, and the buttons were made of emeralds. She looked stunning in them, and I found myself not really caring that it had taken so much longer than five minutes.

Yes boys, if you can be patient enough to wait for your bird, she will come out looking brilliant. And, if you didn't bug her, you'll get to enjoy the way she looks because the two of you will be on speaking terms.

"I'm ready, Fred." She said pleasantly, flipping her long curls behind her back. I stepped over towards her and offered her my arm with a smile.

"You look gorgeous, Hermione." I said, declining to mention the fact that it had by no means of the word been five minutes.

The best way to handle the five minute problem is just to plan everything earlier. That way, if you do have extra time, you can at least enjoy how nice you both look. Though, you have to be careful not to mess up her hair or makeup, otherwise you've got to wait another hour for her to fix that, and you'll have officially ruined the preparations you made.

Sometimes though, it is worth it to be a little late.

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><p><em>AN: Okay, your reviews had me laughing really hard. I loved them, seriously, those were brilliant. I've had a blast with this so far. I have several ideas, but let me know if you have any you'd like to see. I'm not sure how long this will continue, I've got enough for eleven chapters right now, but it might get longer than that. _

_The actual chapter lengths will vary but I'll try and get them at 1,000 words or more._

_Anyway, let me know what you think and please leave another review!_

_Thanks,_

_Wizards_Pupil_


	3. Chapter 3: Nothing

My! We are progressing quite nicely here, Hermione would be so proud of all of you, you're learning the lessons brilliantly. Pretty soon you'll be writing your own guides.

Well, today, we are learning the third word. This one is vital to every man's understanding. It is a dreaded word, and one that almost always means pain and hours of miscommunication, or no communication. I personally think it should be put on the list of curse words not allowed in polite company.

**Nothing:**

_This is another case of the word they say meaning the opposite of what they are really thinking. This words most definitely means something and you should be on your toes with your wand out ready to yell 'Protego.' when it is used. "Nothing" is usually used when she wants to describe the feeling she has of wanting to turn you inside out, upside down, and backwards with a few fancy waves of her wand. "Nothing" usually signifies an argument that will last "Five Minutes" and end with the word "Fine". And when it ends, you will usually be in far worse condition than when it started. You might also be a few appendages short- if you get my drift._

"Hermione!" I called out, entering the flat with a grin. I'd had a good day at the shop, and I was extremely happy about it. I was in a brilliant mood, and more than eager to say hello to my little wifey. The flat was clean and I could smell something cooking so it seemed like my good day was going to continue into being a good night.

That was my first mistake, I dropped my guard and because of that, I missed the warning signs.

I shook off my magenta robes and tossed them onto the robe stand by the door. If I had looked over I would have realized I missed my target and seen my robes crumple to the ground.

In case you haven't noticed from lesson one, birds take the state clothes are in extremely personally. If you learn nothing (the dreaded word!) else, then learn this. Do. Not. Toss. Any. Article. Of. Clothing. Anywhere. But. The. Drawer. Or. The. Dirty. Laundry. Bin.

Yes, don't ever toss clothes, keep them on or hide them somewhere your girl won't find them if you don't want to put them were they 'belong.'

"Hey, Fred…" Her voice trailed off as she reached me. I wrapped my arms around her in a warm hug and pressed a kiss to her lips. She pulled back too quickly, and I knew something wasn't quite right.

"How was your day?" She asked after a moment. I grinned again, trying to gage what was wrong with her. I couldn't see anything visibly wrong, and I didn't see anything in the flat to suggest a problem.

"My day was great. The Gabbing Gum went over without a hitch. George tested it out in front of everyone and we had them test out spells on him to try and silence him. Nothing worked-it was utterly brilliant." I made my way over to our kitchen counter and checked out the days owl post. Nothing but bills, of course.

"How was your day? The flat looks smashing by the way." (That's another hint for you blokes, always complement the house if your bird has cleaned it. And look to see if she has, it's hell if you don't notice.)

"Mine was just fine. The Minister agreed to look over my Legislation for the House Elves." She said making her way to the counter beside me.

"That's brilliant, Hermione!" I exclaimed, excited for her success. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head.

"Not really, he'd already agreed to do it anyway." I stepped nearer her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"It is brilliant, love. It'll pass." She made her way into the kitchen and started plating up our dinner.

Second mistake I made. I should have asked her what was wrong, however, the smell from dinner was incredible and it distracted me. Birds, that should be a tip for you. Never discuss something serious with us when we're waiting for our dinner. We tend to zone everything else but our food out.

We sat down at the table and began to eat. I did most of the talking, because she was still upset. I finally got the hint and set my fork down.

"What's wrong, Hermione?" I asked, leaning forward slightly so I could look at her more closely. She shook her head and gave me a smile, a fake one but a smile. I didn't miss the way it didn't quite reach her eyes either.

"I'm fine." (Lesson one guys)

"Are you sure? You look up set."

"It's nothing." That set off the red alert. It was obvious she was lying, but I wasn't sure why.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing." She said more fiercely.

I leaned back and looked around the apartment, attempting to figure out what I'd done wrong.

"I told you it was nothing." She snapped.

"I don't believe you. Something's obviously wrong." Her hand twitched towards her wand and I knew I was in trouble. "Please just tell me what it was I did wrong." I hastened to add, my eyes now frantically scanning the flat.

"If you can't figure it out then you don't deserve to know." I didn't have to answer that remark because I finally saw the bloody robe I dropped. I jumped up from the table and crossed the flat in five steps. I picked up the robe and placed it on the robe rack before turning back towards her and giving her an apologetic smile. She glared at me for a moment before her gaze softened.

"Thank you." She whispered softly.

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><p><em>AN: I'm still loving your reviews, they're still making me laugh really hard. Keep letting me know if you have any thing you'd like to see me do, I've gotten some good suggestions. _

_Thanks, and don't forget to leave a review._

_Wizards_Pupil_


	4. Chapter 4: Go Ahead

Alright the number of arguments in your house should be going down. So, we're moving onto another word, one that I think you are ready to learn. It's a two parter, and the first one is what we call a no-win, because if things get to this point, then there is no way out without some tears and some and goof ups.

**Go Ahead (with raised eyebrows):**  
><em><br>This is a dare. One that will result in a woman getting upset over "Nothing" and will end with the word "Fine". If you pass the dare then she'll huff and ignore you. If you don't, she'll gloat. I haven't decided which one is worse._

A bang sounded from our kitchen, and it was rather a loud one. I hopped up from the cauldron I had been stirring in my office area (it was really more like an experiment room. Hermione said it made her think of a mad scientists lab, whatever that is) and went to see what the trouble was. I found Hermione staring at our kitchen sink with a look of utter hatred on her pretty face. The revulsion and disgust in her eyes was all too familiar, and I felt extremely sorry for whatever object it was that had earned the full blow of her fury.

"Love?" I called carefully. I wasn't about to redirect her anger towards me if I could help it. I'd been on the receiving end of her wand and I liked the end I was currently on a lot better.

"The bloody sink has stopped up!" She snapped, rounding on me with her furrowed brow. It was a testament to just how annoyed she was. She never, ever cursed. "I've been trying to fix it for the last hour and a half!" Godric, no matter she was pissed off. I really should have noticed that sooner, oh well, nothing I could do about that now, might as well see if I could fix it.

"Did you try scourgify?" I asked, stepping towards her to see what was the matter.

"Of course I did! It only made things worse." I had reached her by now and I could see the sink. It looked like a simple enough fix. My dad had made sure I knew how to fix things like that before he'd let me leave the house. Mum felt we should know how to cook and do our own clothes, dad felt we should know how to do to basic house upkeep.

"Let me see if I can fix it. I'm rather good at fixing things like that." I offered, stepping up to the sink and squatting down on my knees so I could see what the trouble was. Hermione arched one of her thin, lovely eyebrows and crossed her arms.

"Go ahead."

I can describe my reaction in one word. Bollocks.

I remained cool though and didn't betray the fact that I was perfectly aware I'd somehow managed to goof up. I leaned forward and examined the pipes. It was an easy fix. I looked at it for a moment and debated how I wanted to do this. Did I need to make it look like a difficult fix or just do it quickly?

I chose quickly. I was pretty much in trouble either way. (yes blokes, that was the wrong choice. If your bird has spent any length of time trying to fix something and you just make it look like a breeze, well, it's your funeral.) I tapped my wand against the pipe and, judging by the gurgling sound I heard, I had cleared the pipe.

I reall should have made it look like I struggled, but I was tired and I didn't want to fake it. she could always see through my fakes anyway.

"All done. It was an easy fix." I said entirely too perkily. I pulled out from under the sink and turned towards her. She was still standing with her arms crossed, but her glare was now directed towards me.

"Love?" I questioned, feeling on edge. She huffed at me and turned around, ignoring my question before she stomped off and left the room. She went into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Bugger.

Now, I hope my goof helps you other guys, though I really don't know how you can fix that situation once you got the state I did. I made far too many early mistakes, I think I just dug my grave deeper. I figured at least this way you'll have a clue as to what's about to happen to you.

However, it would be extremely unkind to just leave you blokes there, with an angry wife, so, I'm going to fill you in on how I earned her forgiveness. Once I stood up I saw a pile of dirty dishes beside the sink, and I, using my massive brain (that had just failed me dismally with my wife) deduced that she had been trying to clean them when the sink quite working on her. I filled the sink with water, poured a bit of soap into the water, and using the skill my mum had so diligently taught me, I began to wash the dishes. It was nasty, and stopped the sink right back up, but when Hermione finally came out of the bedroom a while later, she was much quicker to forgive me.

Part two of our lesson is similar to the first half of the lesson, but it is not the same. There is a subtle difference, but there is a difference and it will change the game plan. You can win this one by listening to what your wife is trying to tell you and not doing whatever it is that you think you need to do.

**Go Ahead (normal eyebrows):**

_This means "I give up" or "do what you want because I don't care". You will get a raised eyebrow "Go Ahead" in just a few minutes, followed by "Nothing" and "Fine" and she will talk to you in about "Five Minutes" when she cools off._

THIS IS BAD! I'm just warning you, if you get this 'Go Ahead', it will probably mean physical pain for you from your own stupidity. Your wife is smarter than you. The sooner we blokes accept that the sooner we can fix this problem. (Well, personally, I just think my wife has the gift of seeing the future simply because there is just no way I am that dumb. I refuse to believe it.)

The number of examples I have of the normal eyebrow go ahead is truly depressing. I'm going to give you one that really was nearly painful though, and it involved two of my favorite females. I personally think they were conspiring against me.

It was late summer and hot as anything. I actually think we were having a record breaker, which made everyone miserable. We were having a lunch to celebrate Harry's birthday, and the entire family had gathered for it. Even Charlie had made an appearance. For some reason, mum had decided we should all eat out side. It was a lot of fun, but it just made all the more people witness my momentary lapse of reason.

George and I had held back on product testing, and everyone was in a good mood. Well, most everyone.

My little sister, my Gin, was not at all happy. She was heavily pregnant (the little guy was actually late, and she was not pleased to be pregnant during the hottest summer) Not only was she hot and miserable, she was also convinced she looked terrible, and that she was as large as a beached whale.

General disclaimer to readers, blokes and birds, never, ever, ever tick off a pregnant women, especially not when she's hot!

I was sitting next to Hermione who was chatting with Ginny. Harry was sitting beside his wife, giving her an adoring little smile. She was missing it though.

"You look beautiful." He whispered, placing a hand on her arm. Ginny turned towards him and raised an eyebrow, frowning at him.

"I do not." She said pointedly. Harry looked surprised and leaned back slightly.

"Yes, you do, love. You're stunning."

Now, all your birds are probably laughing your heads off at poor Harry. Hermione was certainly shooting him a warning look that he completely missed. I leaned forward, intending on helping the poor bloke out and letting my sister know that she did indeed look stunning.

"Don't." Hermione whispered, grabbing my arm. Ginny didn't hear the comment because she was once again telling Harry that she was ugly and fat. I looked at Hermione with wide eyes and shook my head. My beautiful baby sister thought she was ugly, I wasn't letting that stand.

"Go ahead." She said, leaning back in her seat and crossing her arms. I paused momentarily, registering that word and message as potentially dangerous, but hey, she was my sister. I was on safe ground here, I knew what I was doing.

Not. Pregnant women are not entirely sane, you do not know what you're doing and you should only approach them at high caution.

"Seriously, Ginny. You look nice." I almost used the fatal 'F' word, fine.

"I do not!" She exploded, and now Harry was scrambling to get away as her wand was drawn. I turned towards Hermione with wide eyes and she simply raised her eyebrow.

"But, Ginny-" I started, attempting to save my skin, which was looking to be in serious peril.

"No!" She snapped, and she stood up with a scowl. She shot a resentful look to Harry, and then she was leaving the table, heading towards the house. Hermione looked at me, shook her head, and then got up as well, following Ginny into the house and leaving us all in surprised silence.

"What happened?" Harry asked, looking at me in shock. I shook my head, watching the kitchen door swing shut behind my wife. I glanced around the table and realized everyone was looking at us. Most with raised eyes, a few with bemused expressions.

"Honestly." George said, shaking his head at me. "Haven't you learned never to make a pregnant woman angry yet?"


	5. Chapter 5: I Don't Care

**I don't care:**

_Possibly the biggest lie in all of womanhood. They do care, deeply, but for some reason, they don't want to tell you, so tread lightly blokes. The amount of time it will take for her to start speaking to you again will make "five minutes" seem like mere minutes. _

It was a beautiful spring afternoon, the birds were chirping, the sun was shining, and a glorious breeze was blowing through the open window in our flat. I was in a good mood, and I wanted to get out of the flat and go enjoy the pleasant day. Hermione had been complaining about how many dishes we used the night before, so I came up with what seemed like a truly ingenious idea.

Why not eat out? Now, all you experienced blokes are laughing at me, and all you birds are probably grinning maliciously. Especially when you hear how I played this one out.

"Love," I called out, stepping out of my lab like room and into the sitting room where Hermione was reading. She looked up from her thick volume and gave me a small smile.

"Yes, Fred?" she asked, sounding pleasant enough. I grinned back at her and crossed the room, sitting down atop the coffee table.

"Would you like to go get something to eat? You know, eat out somewhere?" I asked. She raised an eyebrow and I was momentarily worried before she smiled and nodded her head.

"Yes, that sounds nice."

"Brilliant!" I exclaimed, hopping up and heading towards the kitchen counter to grab my galleons, wand, and robe. Hermione followed me, a small frown playing on her face now.

"Where?" I don't know why, but her question threw me for a complete loop. I blinked at her for a moment, probably making her think she had spoke in mermish, or some other odd language.

"Where would you like to go?" I finally asked, realizing I was standing there with my mouth open like a complete idiot.

"I don't care, love. Anywhere you want to go is fine with me." Now I was worried. Not only was the dreaded 'fine' in that statement (a word I dislike on instinct) but she also just told me beyond a shadow of a doubt that she did care. The bad news? She wanted me to guess where. I don't know why women do this, and they do it periodically. It like they think if they go two or three days without having you guess what they're thinking, then your marriage will suffer.

To be such brilliant creatures, I really just can't figure out how they don't see that the question damages the marriage. No bloke ever guess right the first time, and thus must start the fun game of 'guess what random thing I'm thinking of or there will be lots of pain, love.'

"How about a steak?" I asked, deciding I'd start expensive, that way she at least wouldn't think I was going cheap on her. (If I did that I'd get to spend a lovely evening hearing about how I used to do things for her)

"No," She said, wrinkling her brow in distaste. "I don't want a steak." Strike one. You don't want to get too many or she gives you that 'why did I marry you?' look.

"Chinese?" I asked, going for something completely different. She tilted her head in mock thoughtfulness before shaking her head.

"No…" Strike two.

"How about Mexican?" I asked, remaining cool and collected.

"It gives you heartburn, Fred. No." Godric's ghost, that was three strikes. We were about to get deadly, and I was getting decidedly hungry.

"Well, where would you like to go?" I asked, hoping she'd give me a suggestion. No such luck. She simply gave me a dazzling smile and shook her head.

"Anywhere is fine with me, Fred. I don't care." I was beginning to hate those three words.

"How about burgers?" Yes, birds, to us blokes there is a pronounced difference to burgers and steaks. No blokes, there really isn't to birds. You can get both at the same place, apparantely.

"I already said no."

I was about to get desperate, because the two of us could, and had on more than one occasion, do this all day. I was hungry, and I was about to tell her to go back to her book that I was just going to make myself a corned beef sandwich.

"Cajun? Italian? French? Salad? Sandwiches? The Cauldron? The Three Broomsticks? Brews and Stews?" I started to list every genre and restaurant I could think of in desperation.

"Yes, that sounds good." See, that's the problem with the listing option, you're never a hundred percent sure which one she liked.

"Brew and Stews?" I said, making my voice much more confident than I was feeling. She nodded her head, giving me that small smile. I suddenly understood that that was precisely where she always wanted to go.

So why, for the love of Merlin, do you birds just not tell us that?

Either way you go about it, this is not a fun game, and will result in a game that reminds you a lot of charades. Hold out hope though, blokes, you can win the game, and still get your lunch.

_A/N: Thanks for all the ideas :D This is so much fun. Keep them coming please :)_


	6. Chapter 6: That's Okay

**That's Okay:**

_This is one of the most dangerous statements that a woman can say to a man. "That's Okay" means that she wants to think long and hard before paying you retributions for whatever it is that you have done. "That's Okay" is often used with the word "Fine" and used in conjunction with a raised eyebrow "Go Ahead". At some point in the near future when she has plotted and planned, you are going to be in some mighty big trouble_.

I was beyond exhausted. Honestly, I had never been more tired in my life. I looked the part too, I had dark circles under my eyes, my hair was never fixed properly, and my clothing was always skewed, simply because I did not have the energy or incentive to fix it. I would have traded all the galleons in the world for a day of sleep, and I know Hermione felt the same as me.

She looked the same as me, except her hair was actually limp, it was no longer it's beautiful bushy self. She always had it pulled back as well, and she wore almost nothing but house robes.

We were hopeful though that this period of torture, this purgatory we had found ourselves in, would soon be over. I knew only one thing for certain, I never, ever gave my mum enough credit for raising seven of us. One was killing me. Merlin, she'd even had twins. I needed to send her an apology owl for just how awful George and I had been to her.

Sorry, I digressed very badly there, but it was necessary to set the mood of when this next lesson takes place: in the bed. No, it was nothing like that, sadly, nothing like that had happened in a painfully long time. I was beginning to worry she was considering abstinence.

We had both fallen into bed after simply kicking off our shoes and our outermost wear. Hermione curled up into my side and I held her close before closing my eyes and drifting off into the blessed land of nod. Maybe, just maybe, our son would sleep through the night.

Of course not, because at some point one of us had ticked off a higher power and he was now playing extremely dirty. Three a.m. struck, and like clockwork, our baby went off.

Now, parents, especially tired parents, like to play a game when their baby goes off at these ungodly hours of the morning. The game is a test to see who is the better at faking it. We both, predictably, ignored the first cry in hopes that he'd go back to sleep, and the second cry in hopes that the other would get it.

Hermione, being the dirty player that she is, grabbed the arm I had wrapped around her on the third cry, and shook it.

"Fred, get up. The baby is crying." I groaned into my pillow and shook my head.

"No, love. I got him last time." It was true, I'd gotten up the last two times. Well, that I remembered anyway, and my memory wasn't the best recently. Sleep deprivation will do that to you.

"No, I did. It's your turn, and you need to get up." She insisted, leaning back from me so she could look me in the eyes.

"It's your turn though." I insisted, my body screaming at me to shut up and go back to bed.

"You're not going to get up?" she asked, her voice weary. "Even though it is your turn? I got him yesterday morning." She was right, the stupid memory came back to me now that she mentioned it. I still didn't want to get up though.

"Do I have too?" I moaned, knowing I was treading on thin ice.

"No, that's okay. I'll get him." that made me open my eyes. Now, there was a good chance she wouldn't remember this conversation, I knew I probably wouldn't, but still… it would not be good for me if she did. The one thing I really did not need was my wife, my one eternal ally against our child, to be angry at me. The word 'that's okay' ensured that she was indeed angry with me. I had been on the receiving end of that statement too many times to not act.

She was sitting up, her face narrowed in annoyance when I moved. I sat up and gently pressed her back in the bed, giving her a half smile before standing up. My entire body sent my brain a complaint at the simple motion and I had to force myself to step forward. I'd fallen asleep standing more times than I cared to admit.

"You're getting him?" Hermione asked, her voice fading as sleep started to claim her. I nodded my head and stepped forward, cringing as Gideon's wails reached an unnatural note.

I stumbled into our sons room and flicked the light on before slipping up next to his bed. He was wailing still, his face red, his little hands fisted, and his head thrown back. "Shh," I whispered, lifting the unhappy little guy up. He hiccupped against me and shifted in my hold, still whimpering. I couldn't help but smile softly as he curled up against me, making cooing noises that were darn cute.

He was annoying as hell, but I still loved him-even when he kept me up. I crossed the room to the rocking chair in the corner and lowered myself down onto it, picking a bottle up and warming it before feeding him. He sucked away at the bottle happily, curling into me with a satisfied sigh when he'd finished.

I placed him back in his bed and covered him with his quilt before placing a kiss on his head. I tiptoed out of the room and went back to my own.

Hermione was sitting up on the bed, smiling shyly at me. "I couldn't sleep until I knew he was okay." She explained. I smiled and slipped next to her on the bed.

"It's your turn next time." I said quietly, lacing our fingers together. She smiled against my chest and nodded her head.

"Yes, I'll get him next." She snuggled into my chest and let out a little sigh.

Which brings me to the close of this lesson, with one more definition that doesn't really require a lesson becasue most of you understand it.

**Soft Sigh:**

_This is not an actual word, but is still a verbal statement. "Soft Sighs" are one of the few things that some blokes actually understand. She is content. Your best bet is to not move or breathe and she will stay content._

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><p><em>AN: He-he, yet another chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one. Just to clarify things up, this story isn't in a specific timeline. I'm jumping around their married life. some will be earlier, some later. Who knows, I might even throw in a chapter when they're dating._

_I hope you all enjoy and don't forget to leave a review._


	7. Chapter 7: Please Do

Alright guys, we're getting onto a new lesson, one that causes hours of distress and annoyance, as well as a potential cold shoulder while she does whatever it is that you failed. I've received this one so many times its depressing, but I've also managed to escape out of it more than any other phrase. The key to this one is quite simple, back tracking. Being with a bird will teach you how to do that shockingly well. I'm serious as well, if back tracking was an Olympic sport, I could win the gold.

The words that have caused me to increase my skill in back tracking is quite simple:

**Please Do:**

_First and most important to understand is that this is not a statement, it is an offer._

_A woman (yours specifically) is giving you the chance to come up with whatever excuse or reason you have for doing whatever it is that you have done so terribly wrong. You have a fair chance to tell the truth, so be careful and you shouldn't get a "That's Okay."_

I first was introduced to this little gem of a word when I was dating my beautiful wife. I was helping her to move her furniture out of Harry and Ron's apartment into an apartment that Ginny, Luna, and her were now sharing. She was putting her plates in a cabinet while Ginny was putting items away in the bedroom, Luna had taken residence in the bathroom, and I was in the living room, putting her many books back on the shelves.

Now, I don't really read. I've never found it particularly thrilling, and honestly, I'd rather use my free time doing other things. Hermione, however, _loves_ books. No, honestly, love is just not a strong enough word to describe the devotion she has too her books. If she had to choose between saving my life, or her books, well, I just better hope whatever it is that is threatening me is something I can handle, or that George pops up to help save me.

I was putting her books up, one after the other, not looking at the covers or titles because I just didn't care. I was feeling annoyed at my brothers and Harry for flaking out on helping, and was contemplating ways of getting out of this myself, when I heard a startled gasp followed by a yelp. I dropped the book in my hand and straightened up, my hand flying to the wand in my pocket in alarm as I spun around to see what the impending danger was, and to take whatever that danger proved to be, out.

Hermione, my dear girl friend of two months, was standing behind me, her hand on her mouth and a look of utter shock on her pretty face. I spun back around, my wand now out and aimed at the book shelf, my eyes searching for some sort of danger. The only thing there were the books I had been stacking. Nothing even remotely dangerous.

I turned back towards her and stowed my wand back in my pocket, a frown on my face as I looked at her. "Hermione?" I asked tentatively, sensing something was wrong. "What is it, love?"

I don't know why me, and every other one of us blokes does this. Any time we think we are in trouble we instantly pull out the pet names for them. It never works, it usually just backfires on us.

Her eyes narrowed and she dropped her hand, stepping towards me with an extremely disapproving look. "What." She said fiercely, poking my chest with her index finger, "Do you think you are doing to my books?"

I looked down at her and blinked owlishly, (not a good response by the way blokes) before looking back at the book shelf. "I was putting them on the shelf, love." I answered, looking back at her with a hopeful smile.

She frowned even more and stepped closer, which I normally would have enjoyed, now though, it just scared me.

"Why are you putting them like that though!"

"Umm," I started, glancing at the books again, "I can explain?" I offered, turning back to her with a hopeful look. She furrowed her brow and stepped back, crossing her arms.

"Please do."

That, my fellow blokes, is why you don't want to lie. She will call your bluff, and laugh at you when you try to get out of it. Women seem to enjoy this immensely, it's almost inhumane.

I looked back at the book shelf and let my eyes scan the titles. Nope, there was no sense to that arrangement. Color wouldn't work either…

Bingo.

I turned back to her, a triumphant grin on my face. "They are in size order." Her eyes shot back to the shelf and she studied it for a moment. Sure enough, I had unthinkingly put the tallest books on one side, and the shorter on the other. A small grin tugged her lip up and she turned back to me.

"Alright, I prefer them to be in alphabetical though." She said quietly. I beamed back at her and nodded my head.

"I can do that, love."

I turned back to the book shelf and bent to pick up another book she stalled me with a hand on my forearm. I turned to face her and smiled at the soft look in her eyes.

"Thanks, Fred."

That brings me to the closure of this lesson, with one final definition that doesn't require a chapter.

**Thanks:**

_A woman is thanking you. Do not faint, just say you're welcome._

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><p><em>AN: I'm back! I finally got this one posted :) I hope you all enjoy it!_


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